


Luminaries

by Archaema



Series: Pharmercy Drabbles [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12243063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaema/pseuds/Archaema
Summary: Angela Ziegler's POV.





	Luminaries

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was mostly written by the K half of offkeelworld.

I greet her at the door - in nothing but one of her shirts. As soon as she’s past the threshold, she shuts the door. None may see this but her - This is her territory. There’s a certain expression she wears when I back away with a coy smile tugging at my lips, where subtle specks of gold flash and burn in her eyes and she focuses in. She stalks, fixated and focused with an intoxicating smugness. She’s aware that I love this part of her. My back hits the wall, unexpected causing me a moment of surprise, but she’s methodical and cunning in her advance. My eyes soak in the sight of her drawing closer, the way her muscles and stance shifts. I firmly bite my lower lip to keep myself grounded.

I shiver when she finally reaches me, but it feels as though the heat from her body is going to sear my skin.

“Problem, Doctor Ziegler?”

My mouth runs dry when her voice, husky and taunting at my ear, mingles with her fingers dragging up my sides to pull the hem of my shirt up. 

_No, no problem_ , my mind answers. _Not anymore_. But then, little is ever a problem where she is concerned. Being together brings out the best in each of us, and there are wonderful benefits to our love, too.

I’m hungry for her, but she deprives me. I can feel her smile as I let out a whimper when she only draws her lips across mine to press a kiss at the side of my mouth instead of putting them on my own – or any number of other places I’m thinking of. She retreats quickly to my neck when I try to chase her, and this time I see a flit of her sly grin. Her teeth gnaw sharply at my skin; it will leave marks now and give her an unapologetic grin when I scold her later. She knows how much I love when she does this, one of those guilty pleasures no one else needs to know about.

I can hear, feel, her groan as my hands snake up along her stomach. A soft sigh leaves her as my fingernails scratch across her shoulders, warm along my skin. She always says my touch is electrifying; I know, because it’s the same when she touches me.

A trail of her fatigues leads to the bedroom, left behind while a trail of nips and sucks on each other’s skin took precedence. The taste of her is something that I can’t quite describe. Her scent, too, as I pull her atop me and her hand grips the headboard. She’s usually quiet, but her desire screams to me, grips me with fingers in my hair and thighs on either side of my head. The headboard shakes and rattles a little each time I hit the perfect spot with my tongue.

I’m not going to hurry.

Finally, her will shatters. All the stress of her day washes away with her peak, as a rush of goosebumps rise along her thighs, such a curious texture as I rub my hands over them. I watch her as she throws her head back and calls out my name to the ceiling – to the night beyond. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

I am easily lost in her, and she in me. She teases that she really needs to have a shower, but I hold her, and she cocoons her long arms and legs around me. I adore the weight of her, the scent, her heartbeat. I want her soul with mine for the rest of my days.

She is my sun. I am her moon.


End file.
